


Going Home

by HeartEyesTurner



Category: Arctic Monkeys
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24135250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartEyesTurner/pseuds/HeartEyesTurner
Summary: Fluff about taking Alex home for Thanksgiving
Relationships: Alex Turner (Musician)/Reader
Kudos: 8





	Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> A little fluffy thing I wrote throughout the day on Thanksgiving.

When you asked him if he wanted to come to your parent’s house for Thanksgiving this year; he was thrilled. Nervous, but thrilled. You’d been dating a little under a year, and this would be your first major family event together. He didn’t celebrate the holiday, hadn’t been to one before, and so he immersed himself in knowledge. For weeks he asked you question after question; what your family did that day, what foods you ate, who he’d be meeting. You giggled at each question, finding it incredibly endearing that he was so into it.

He insisted on bringing a dish. ‘Isn’t that tradition? Like customary not to come empty-handed on a holiday meant for giving thanks?’ he’d asked you when he brought up the idea. It wasn’t necessary you explained, but he was hell bent. Took him at least a week to decide, especially because your mom already had everything prepared down to the very last strategically placed gourd on the table. He settled on something traditional that his mum would make at home during Christmas holiday, figuring he should share his traditions with your family. 

When the day arrived, you both bundled up; all wooly jackets and scarves because it was colder on the east than you thought it’d be. He offered to drive because he needed to keep himself distracted from the bundle of nerves deep in his stomach at the prospect of meeting your immediate family. He also wasn’t very fond of your driving skills. He was adorable. When you started out, he let you choose the station, and you sang along to classic rock, and you even yelled at him a few times for playing the air guitar. 

“I would like to stay alive long enough to at least eat some mashed potatoes, Turner.” You scolded him and he laughed, his hands planted firmly on the wheel for the remainder of the drive. 

Your parent’s house looked warm and inviting as you drove up the street. The leaves were falling softly, pretty ambers and golds, a Japanese maple ignited bright red on the front lawn. You took his hand in yours when he took a deep breath outside the car. He was nervous. You assured him that there was nothing to be nervous about; everyone was going to love him.

And they did.

//

Your family was loud, boisterous and playful. Your mom gave him a hug and teased him about something or other and he blushed, chuckling softly. He loved your mom. Told you so after every time he saw her. She gave him a good ribbing like you always did; that’s why he loved you. Your dad shook his hand, and Alex stood awkwardly in the kitchen still clutching the dish he’d brought. 

“I… erm… brought this.” He announced, and when your mom asked him what it was and explained the significance, that his mom made it for him during the holidays; everyone gushed. You bit your lip. He’d be comfortable in no time at all. They were going to fawn and dote over him you were very positive. 

Alex was overwhelmed though; all the noise in the kitchen. So you took his hand and led him to your parents bedroom where the coats and bags were kept. 

“You okay?” You asked him, slipping out of your coat and scarf, stacking them in the pile on the bed. 

“I’m…“ he chuckled, “… I love your family. Alreadeh.”

You couldn’t stop the grin that was spreading across your face, and you took hold of both ends of his scarf, “C’mere…” You pulled him close and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “You’re adorable. I love you. And I’m happy you came with me.”

He smiled against your lips and gave you a quick peck on the cheek before shrugging out of his navy peacoat.

“Do yeh think they like meh?” He asked, brow furrowed, as he adjusted his sweater.

A sweater. 

The sweet boy was wearing a sweater. He looked so sharp and wholesome and it warmed your heart. You never got to see him like this; without the buckled boots and tight jeans. It made him look younger, softer; like the Alex you knew only in photos from his past.

“I think they do.” You assured him and he followed you back down the hall to the party. 

Your dad offered you both drinks and made you cocktails (strong ones because he’d always had a heavy hand) and the two of you waited until he left to add a bit more juice to neutralize the taste. You showed him around your parents house, introduced him to your family, and he settled in nicely. They asked too many questions of course, but Alex didn’t mind. He didn’t clam up, he took his time and answered thoughtfully, even when your younger cousins asked about being Alex Turner and being in a famous band. He talked with your grandparents and watched a bit of the re-run of the parade on tv while everyone got to know each other. 

He was anxious to eat; made himself a pretty decent-seized plate of appetizers and you watched him balance it on his knees on the couch; the same but so different in this new environment. When you left him alone for too long, he’d come and find you… assisting where he could. He was perfect. 

When it was time for dinner, you were sat together on the side of the table with the mirror directly across and he made faces at you while everyone took their seats. You giggled quietly and he reached for your hand holding it beneath the table. 

He kissed your cheek again, feeling the warmth that had risen from the alcohol and wine; turning your cheeks a soft, rosy blush.

“Too much to drink, bug?” He teased, tapping your nose. You wrinkled it up in response and shook your head. “Yeh’re a lightweight. Always ‘ave been.”

“Am not.” You reached for your glass and took a little sip, eyeing Alex the whole time. He squeezed your hand again as the table filled up. 

Your dad and mom were sitting at either end of the table, your dad standing up to read a poem for a toast. You laughed when he made a joke about having to wear glasses to read and teared up a bit at his choice of words and how he stumbled a little. Alex glanced at you with a little smile, and everyone raised their glass to clink and toss back their champagne.

Soon after it was a mess of confusion and laughter as plates were passed between gravy boats and bread baskets and bottles of wine. Everyone’s dish was overfilled and stacked high, and the room was mostly quiet for the first few bites; but it soon erupted in conversation again. 

Alex cleaned his plate faster than you expected and you teased him about going for seconds. “Hungry much?”

“Shut it.” He laughed, mumbling through a mouth full of potatoes. “Everything’s so good!”

You giggled at him as he piled on more food. 

“Better save room for dessert, baby.” You warned him later on his third serving of turkey. 

“Shit.” He muttered a few minutes later, setting down his fork and holding his stomach. “I think I… might’ve eaten too much.”

“I told you.” You scolded him as he pushed his plate away towards the center of the table. 

//

“Stuffed. I’m stuffed.” He whispered, collapsing next to you on the couch in the living room once dinner was over.

“Same.” You agreed, snuggling up under his arm when he was sat beside you. 

“Are weh supposed to beh like, helpin’ out or summat, bug? Am I gonna lose points for not being I’ll’ in the kitchen doing dishes?”

You laughed softly, your eyes drifting closed as your breathing fell into rhythm with his. “No… I never help. Best to stay out of there… nap on the couch is better.”

He kissed the top of your head, and breathed, “Good. Because I don’t think I can move.”

You hugged him closer, his hands drifting up and down your side as you both began to nod off. The noise in the house became a dull roar, and the smell of Alex filled your senses; like clean laundry and the comforting scent of cloves and cinnamon. The cinnamon was from dinner, the cloves were all him. The leather of the couch was so cozy and soft, and Alex was so warm beside you; the whole scenario a lethal combination. It was only a matter of time before the pair of you were fast asleep.

//

It was the laughter of your smallest cousins that jolted you from your sleep. You had no idea how long you’d been napping for, but the kitchen was nearly clean now. Alex was still sleeping quietly beside you, but he looked too peaceful to wake him up. So you shifted a little and let him sleep against you, softly petting his head. He stirred when your fingers tickled the back of his neck, blinking his bleary eyes as he came to. 

“Hey sleepyhead.” You smiled when he reluctantly left the warmth of your body to sit up. He scratched at his hair, ruffling it as he yawned sleepily. 

“Ey, ‘ow long were weh out for?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can also [find me on Tumblr](https://hearteyesturner.tumblr.com/).


End file.
